


On The Phone

by mansikka



Series: On the phone [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Human Castiel, Injured Dean, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pining Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:45:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Talk to me, Cas.”</p><p>Dean listens to the rustle of fabric against the phone, and the image of Cas fidgeting in his trenchcoat trying to get comfortable makes him equal parts lonesome and longing.</p><p>“You are supposed to be resting.” Cas replies, tone soft but firm.</p><p>Dean looks down at the elevated but still-swollen ankle propped up on a mound of pillows at the end of the sofa and groans. “Only so much resting a man can do before he gets stir crazy.”</p><p>“Dean,” affection creeping into his reply, “You have been in the bunker a mere,” and Dean smiles at the pause, picturing Cas pulling the phone from his ear to check the time, “sixteen hours. That is not enough time to be bored.”</p><p>“Well I'm bored,” he grumbles, shifting uncomfortably and wincing as he jars his leg. “So talk to me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Phone

“Talk to me, Cas.”

Dean listens to the rustle of fabric against the phone, and the image of Cas fidgeting in his trenchcoat trying to get comfortable makes him equal parts lonesome and longing.

“You are supposed to be resting.” Cas replies, tone soft but firm.

Dean looks down at the elevated but still-swollen ankle propped up on a mound of pillows at the end of the sofa and groans. “Only so much resting a man can do before he gets stir crazy.”

“Dean,” affection creeping into his reply, “You have been in the bunker a mere,” and Dean smiles at the pause, picturing Cas pulling the phone from his ear to check the time, “sixteen hours. That is not enough time to be bored.”

“Well I'm bored,” he grumbles, shifting uncomfortably and wincing as he jars his leg. “So talk to me.”

More rustling follows. “What do you want to talk about, Dean?”

“Anything. Nothing. Whatever you want to talk about.” He rolls his head back and closes his eyes, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“I already told you about the case.”

Dean nods, his chest filled with a rush of despair at not being there with them. “You did. Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice. Maybe I just don't like feeling useless.”

“You are not useless, Dean. And you can hear my voice any time you want to.”

“Yeah, well...”

“Dean.”

Dean laughs. “How can you say one word and have it mean so many different things?”

“What 'different things' did you hear?”

Dean laughs again, imagining the one handed air quotation he knows Cas is probably doing given that he's alone. He doesn't ask where Sam is, having already received a picture message showing a menu with a burger overflowing with cheese on the front cover. His stomach already rumbled in protest.

“I heard, ' _Dean, I don't like it when you call yourself useless_ .' ' _Dean, I have no idea what you're asking me to do_ .' ' _Dean, are you sure you're resting enough?_ ' ' _Dean, I miss you_.'” his voice hitched a little on the last statement but his uncertainty was rewarded with a warm laugh at the other end of the line.

“I do miss you, Dean. Very much. It is not the same with just me and Sam.”

“Sam's doing okay?” he asks, toying with the edging of the sofa cushion.

“Sam is fine.”

“Wanna tell me how much you miss me?” Dean hadn't meant to blurt that out, changing subjects so quickly, but the words just tumbled out unchecked.

“Dean. I cannot quantify-”

“Cas...” There is a plea in his voice that Cas catches, and Dean knows he heard it, imagines the frown. Hates the way he allows himself to be vulnerable for Cas, and yet secretly loves it too. This needing reassurance and actually sort of asking for it is new. But it's good.

A long, patient sigh follows, and then, “I miss you like there is a part of me missing. I miss you like I have sentences I can't finish without you. I look at pie, or hamburgers, and I think of you. I see plaid shirts, or green eyes, or black cars, and I think of you. In short, I miss you enough to not miss you at all, because I don't stop thinking about you, ever. You are most distracting,” he adds, but there's no malice in the grumble of his voice.

Dean shifts as much as he can without jarring his leg, discomfort sparring with the glow that he feels flushing his cheeks.

“You mean all that, Cas?”

“Of course.”

Dean is now silent, wondering to himself how it's so easy for Cas to say these words when he can't even think them without his chest tightening and his throat constricting.

“Uh. Thanks, Cas. You know, I uh. You know. Mean it too. All that...” Dean swears under his breath at himself, anger at his inability to voice what he wants to say.

“I know, Dean. And thank you,” he replies, voice all honey-coated gravel the exact tone that Dean loves to feel against his neck when they're alone.

“You know, Cas. One of these days I'm gonna have to teach you the art of phone sex.” he quips, letting his momentary confidence loosen his tongue.

He wonders for a moment if he's said too much because the line is very, very quiet.

And then, Cas replies, his voice dropping even lower than usual, “I may have a problem with that.”

Dean swallows down embarrassment and disappointment, shrugs to himself. “Oh. No biggie. We don't have to-”

“You misunderstand me, Dean.”

“I... I do?”

“Yes. I may have a problem because I don't know what to say.”

“Cas,” he barks out, laughing loudly. “I'm pretty sure you could read me the phone book and it would get me going.”

“You...want me to read you the phone book.”

“No! No... I mean. Your voice, Cas. You've gotta know what it does to me.”

Dean listens to Cas move around in the car seat, wondering if he's uncomfortable with what he's just said.

“I... had noticed certain...reactions, yes.” Cas replies with a catch in his throat.

“Oh you did, huh?” Dean grins, enjoying this now, wondering precisely what Cas was remembering.

“Yes.” So affirmative that Cas is probably nodding.

“So. In theory. You'd be happy to give it a try?”

“Yes, although your brother is walking towards the car as we speak so perhaps another time.”

“I hear ya, Cas. Rain check?”

Another shift, and Cas sounds confused. “What does this have to do with the weather, Dean?”

Dean's laugh is hysterical now, picturing Cas' face turned skywards.

“I meant. Another time.”

“Oh. Then yes, Dean. I would like that.”

“Good.” Dean catches himself grinning into the phone and not caring one bit.

“There is one other problem however.”

“Oh?”

“I would much prefer to have sex with you in person than over the phone. I would prefer that we were not separated by one of us being injured. And I would most definitely prefer to be there with you now.”

Dean knows his smile is ridiculous when he replies softly, “Yeah, you and me both.”

Dean listens as Sam climbs into the car, and paper rustling makes him think of burgers. Sam mumbles something that Dean can't catch, and then Cas laughs.

“Sam says to tell you what I'm eating. I'm unwrapping the paper now. It... it looks good, Dean. Smells delicious. I can't wait to have it in my mouth.”

Dean sits up fast, hissing as he jolts his leg, and hearing Sam cackling in the background.

He freezes in place when Cas clearly bites into his burger and makes an obscene moaning noise, showing his appreciation for ground beef as though he is a seasoned pro at the phone sex they’ve been discussing. Dean swallows hard.

“Um. Cas?”

“This,” he says reverently, “is a delicious burger, Dean.”

“Yeah... I get that.” He clears his throat. “And. I'm really looking forward to seeing you, Cas. Come back soon, okay?”

“Okay, Dean. Please try to rest. We will return soon. I'll call you from the motel tonight, okay?”

“I look forward to it.”

  
  



End file.
